Nublu itself is about as " boho " as it gets: tiny benches along the walls that can barely accommodate the behinds of thinny-thin supermodels; strange red medicine ball orbs that we ' re supposed to somehow sit on in the middle of the floor.

Their cavernous, cluttered downtown Manhattan loft (where the filmmaker actually grew up) is a character in its own right: a kind of boho Rube Goldberg-like womb in which the young, troubled protagonist — a boy/man on the verge of a nervous breakdown — reverts to his childhood, leafing through old comic books and seeking out the high-school lover who got away.

He is, I suppose, a certain kind of boho romantic (assuming a preoccupation with failed relationships counts as "romantic"), and he understands how seemingly impractical details are inevitably the key to likable storytelling.